


Cold Advisory

by Peacockery



Category: Cuphead (Video Game)
Genre: Comfort, Domestic Bliss, Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M, One Shot, Some Slapstick
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-22
Updated: 2017-12-22
Packaged: 2019-02-18 06:58:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,940
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13094832
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Peacockery/pseuds/Peacockery
Summary: Beppi is sick but wants to enjoy the snow. Djimmi has the patience of a saint.





	Cold Advisory

**Author's Note:**

> As a big fan of the dingus clown, I also really enjoy him goofing around and getting cozy with the bara genie in the fair grounds. Just a quick, small fluff piece I decided to do while I take a small break before I continue writing Sweet Affairs.
> 
> Also, this is partly dedicated to another writer here who inspired me with their story of a similar snowy theme regarding the pairing!
> 
> Enjoy. :>

Djimmi wasn’t on the best terms with winter, but he had learned to politely tolerate it over the years.

He was a child of warm sands and endless blue skies; snow and foggy breath were not things he was simply used to. As such, he most preferably inside by the fire for the entirety of the season if he had things his way.

Unfortunately for him, he had chosen a partner who absolutely adored cold weather.

Men of snow, domes of snow, forts and strange deities fanned out in snow and territorial dog fights with lobbings of snow. Snow snow snow. Djimmi didn’t understand the pleasures of rubbing oneself in the stuff or wanting to playfully tease others with it, but if it was cold, white and perfectly capable of bending to his whims, Beppi absolutely adored it.

He just didn’t like _catching_ colds.

The genie was perfectly content to spend his evening in the warm caravan he kept in the carnival for his visits, tucked away in his large beanbag and puffing away at his pipe while thumbing the pages of a beloved book- it was a tale of a sand cat who became the Sphinx...he was finding it very hard to focus on such a task, however, as his focus was keeping a wildcat of his own in line.

The cute little wagon had been a gift to him when he first turned up to the carnival years ago, and it had gathered a few more of its friends to compose a ring of them around his actual divination tent for the visitors. Each had its own purpose to suit his needs, and he hardly found it troubling at all in maneuvering between them- nothing that a little teleportation couldn’t fix. One was his reading nook, another a storage room for his artifacts, one a kitchen, another a bathroom of sorts for guests...he was rather popular with his assortment of spaces. From a bird’s eye view the colorful units formed a horseshoe shape, and the very back center was the most important one: he kept it hidden behind his performing space for a reason, as no snooping tom would peep in there and come out alive.

Because he had been a softie, Djimmi had given Beppi his very own caravan whenever the clown needed private decompressing time away from running his gigantic territory...and maybe he loved sleeping in a bed with a handsome, strong genie most nights. It was in that coveted and guarded space that the showman _should_ have been resting in to recover from a bad case of the ickies, but Djimmi knew him better than that; he had been listening as he skimmed his book for any signs of sneaky rebellion.

A faint clanking of something against metal gave him his cue.

He closed the book, set it aside and took one thoughtful puff of his smoke while closing his eyes. It was all the time for peace that he could muster before he was rending himself through physics and space to immediately appear at the window that the clown at propped open. Beppi was frozen in place, grinning innocently as he held up the pane. Djimmi had his arms crossed, completely unbothered by the vicious temperature against his skin as he simply regarded the other with a quirked brow.

“To bed, you go.” He rumbled simply.

Pouting viciously, Beppi should have known better than to contend with a cosmic being who held the magical world wrapped around his finger. Grumbling, he slipped back inside, but only after Djimmi made good warning on pushing him in himself with the palm of his hand.

“This isn’t fair!” The clown whined as he was nudged back into the sultan-sized bed.

Even though it couldn’t be seen from where he walked, Djimmi’s kindly smile and doting eyes were dazzling in the dim light. There was simply no better feeling of being wanted, than to care for someone truly, utterly, heart-smittingly loved. He tucked Beppi back in, and snapped to dim the lights further; perhaps appealing to a nighttime atmosphere would trick that spazzy brain into peaceful sleep. Or, at the very least, keep its owner in one place long enough to begin recovering.

Djimmi took a seat on the edge, fondly sweeping his hand over the bicolored face he had long adored. Beppi feigned agitation, smacking at his hand like a grouchy kitten while glaring off to the side. He did look a little roughed up by the bug, though he was trying his damndest to find every excuse in the book to convince his jailor otherwise.

“I’m not sick.” He sniffled. The genie chuckled, low and deep.

That flushing Djimmi saw wasn’t just from the common cold, he noticed.

“There is some tea, waiting for you.”

Beppi was showing him the back of his head at this point. Victorious for now, the exotic magician ghosted his way off of the bed and out of the painted carriage. He paused once nudging the door back onto the lock; it felt cruel, locking him in there. 

He would have felt terrible, if this wasn’t the seventh attempt tonight at escaping into the powder.

Within a blink of an eye, he was back in his reading space, sighing blissfully at the flickering heat of the fireplace. He managed to get ten more pages into his story before he heard something squeaking through metal. Djimmi furrowed his brows while closing his book and quickly zipped back.

He pushed his turban up while scratching his forehead in confusion- the caravan was locked, and he had made certain that the windows were too before he left...then his gaze moved up to the stove pipe on the roof.

Making an effort to hum a bit more firmly, he floated up to the tree above it, hands on ghostly hips as he stared at the sheepish balloon now tangled up in the branches. He tuned out Beppi’s wailing of frustration while he was loosened up and tugged gently back to the earth below. Djimmi only stopped to unlock the door and gesture for the confused body to stumble out of it, grabbing it as well to begin dragging the entire jester away.

“Aheh…” Sniffle. “Hoo hoo...I guess you could say I’ve earned a good fing-”

“The Great Djimmi will tune out your flirting for now.”

He had to pull all the stops in his restraint to hold back his smile when Beppi became offended.

He slipped into one of the other coaches and carefully shoved Beppi’s head back onto his shoulders, waiting patiently for it to change back from its balloon state to the carnie’s normal one; they both stared each other down for a few moments until Beppi caved under the unblinking calmness and crossed his arms. Sniffle. Djimmi tutted softly. Those fanciful eyes, two golden spheres so uncanny to the desert sun..they looked so tired and pink tinted from the ailment.

After whipping up some toothy swords to ensure the clown stayed put, Djimmi began preparing the next plan of action. Beppi watched in horror and shrank a bit into the frills of his collar.

“This is abuse.”

Beppi loved bubbles. He hated baths. Having some beefy eye candy in the room certainly didn’t help his case. They were at the point in their relationship where nudity was more of a casual exchange, but given the context, suddenly the fight had been kicked out of his legs. He was trembling slightly when the genie turned to look back over him, already sporting a towel over his shoulder; this was the reaction Djimmi had been hoping for.

“Will you be resting up now?” He asked kindly.

Beppi thought it over for a moment, scowling harder. Then, prepping himself up as the pinnacle of innocence, he smiled sweetly up to his partner and nodded.

Djimmi chuckled.

“I am unconvinced.”

He had to bite back his laughter further when he left the heated space, mind burning with the last glance he saw of a very, very angry and coughing clown angrily peeking out from the lake of bubbling foam.

Perhaps he could get some reading now, while the water was still hot.

He melted back into his spot, taking a moment to fondly regard the flashy body suit he now had folded up on a table. He drifted through an entire chapter undisturbed, mind lulled into a satisfied clouded bliss. Life was good...cozy fires, a nice story, and a goofy little spirit he had chosen to spend the rest of his days with. Djimmi’s mind snapped back to attention, and glanced over at the magical hourglass atop his fireplace. Oh shit.

Tossing the book onto a smaller cushion, he bolted out of the room and back into the other caravan. Djimmi slapped his face in frustration once he saw the drained tub. Biting his tongue, he peered down the drain for any signs of color, almost bonking his head on the facet when he heard wet scampering zipping past him and the slamming of the door a moment later.

Oh, that was it.

He all but barged into every room within the wagon circle, squinting around for the smaller menace making his night a second job. He rummaged through each one until he ended up once again at his reading nook, groaning into the night. Perhaps it would have been easier if he stopped panicking to actually use his magic…

He saw a shadow scurrying around past his window. Curious, the genie slowly pushed the door open, peeking inside.

Beppi had his back turned on him, frozen in place from within a large, pooling emerald robe wrapped around him. It was one of the genie’s favorite articles to wear, as a long distant memory of home. Djimmi raised his brows, watching the glittering shine of gold in the seams reacting to the dancing glow of the fire. An old master had given him that gown. The clown refused to look at him, nor did he pull away the ungloved hand that had been reaching for the lonely suit that had been waiting patiently for its master. The magician was silent as he drew closer, taking quiet note of the growing power in Beppi’s shivering beneath the warm fabric; had he been that foolish to sprint through the freezing night, almost unclothed? Then it hit him, how cruel he must have been in that punishment.

He rubbed the back of his neck, frowning heavily. He gently nudged the clown forward, and stood back as the body suit was snatched and hastily put on after Beppi frantically shook off the pilfered covering. Comfortable again in his own skin, he slowly turned to look at him, sniffling and trembling. Djimmi closed the gap between them to wrap his arms around the vulnerable body in a warm, protective embrace.

“Are you wishing to go out there now?” He asked calmly.

Shamefully, the cold, sick clown shook his head. It wasn’t so fun to be rebellious, after all.

Djimmi carefully picked the weakened body up, and carried them both back to his beanbag. From there, they spent the rest of the evening beside the fire, where he happily chose to restart his tale from the beginning with narration- Beppi was more invested in soaking up the warmth of the sweet embrace wrapped around him while groggily kneading along that thick crimson chest.

By the time the fire had reduced to quivering embers, the robe had long picked itself off of the floor and now lay itself over a slumbering jester and his watchful protector.


End file.
